


Papà

by miichiyo



Category: Assassin's Creed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 18:12:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miichiyo/pseuds/miichiyo





	Papà

Papà.

I think of you often. When I hear the sounds of the people, or the silence of the buildings. Other times when I feel alone, as though no one can see me, I remember you, and your eyes. Remembering you gives me strength when I have none. Memories of you keep me going when I wish I couldn't, or when I wish I didn't have to. Though lately, I feel as though I am thinking of you less and less, slowly forgetting. This scares me.

I don't want to forget, papà. I want to be able to remember, because it helps me forget you aren't really there. I stay up nights on end, so that I can wake and in the moments before I understand, I can pretend that I hear Firenze outside my window and know you are in your study, writing. And yet, I notice that those moments become shorter, and sometimes I cannot pretend at all.

I think what you would say of me now. I wonder if you would be proud of me, proud of how I scale the buildings, or of how quickly I run. I wonder if you would be proud of how many people have silently met my blade, and the others who have not met it quite so soundlessly. Truly, I fear what you would think of me now. Uncle tells me you were of the order too, and while it gives me courage I cannot help but wonder if you have hurt as many people as I. 

There is so much pain in this world, padre. I used to live in my ignorance, childlike and without sorrow, but it was stolen from me as you last breath was stolen from you. I couldn't even look upon you as your body went limp, terrified of the collapsing structure of life that was happening to me. I ran until my lungs hurt, and my soles were burning. I ran and ran until the moon came up. I wish I would have died with you, alongside you in your bravery. I wish I had your courage, to try and change the bad things in this world. Instead, I went to seek revenge to dispel the pain, but only found more. I'm alone now, I know. In life I had money, comfort, people who loved me. But I stepped out into the cold world and I saw those who had none. I saw those who cut purses searching for gold that would fill empty stomachs and those who racketeered searching for gold that would fill empty hearts. I saw myself taking lives in search of comfort, but I only took my own. Those who threaten me fail to realize that I have learned how to die a long time ago.

I see the the man in the mirror, donning your clothes, holding himself like a true warrior now. But my face has grown hard and lined, and I rarely can smile anymore. When I look upon the reflection, it is not your son. I am not the man you wanted me to be. I am not the man I wanted to be.

But I am the man I had to become.


End file.
